Agarwaenbor Bloodstained Hand
by Zinc
Summary: Slightly AU. The Ringbearers delay their sail into the West. A strange evil, apprentice of Morgoth the Enemy, brethren of Sauron, makes open war upon the Elves and Men. Aranwë, an Elf from the Havens, is swept up into the war.
1. The Darkness Presses

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AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 1 – THE DARKNESS PRESSES

Aranwë, an Elf of the Grey Havens fitted an arrow to his bow. The Orcs were pressing in on all sides, and they had no way of escape. He let go of the arrow and felled an Orc, which was about to do the same to him.

His company was in charge of clearing the remaining Orcs out of the Misty Mountains. The Grey Havens had the help of the Elves of Eryn Lasgalen, but those of Imladris and Lórien were too few in numbers, and none could be spared from those two realms. 

Aranwë was a skilled warrior otherwise his company would have been obliterated long before they had been surrounded. But, no matter how skilled he was there seemed to be more and more Orcs. "Do not lose hope!" he cried, seeing a branch that was low enough for him to jump out of the circle and climb up onto. "I'll lure them away." He said in a barely audible whisper. Though his allies heard him, fortunately the Orcs did not. He put his bow to his back and put his arrow back in his half-empty quiver. He jumped from the circle and was barely able to swing himself up before an Orc arrow shot past the place his head had been a second earlier. Quickly gaining his balance, he took out his bow and fitted another arrow. He shot at what he had thought and hoped was the Orc captain. Apparently it was, for when his arrow struck the ugly creature in its neck the other Orcs were enraged and many began to fire arrows in his direction, apparently forgetting about the four remaining Elves of his group. The Elves took this opportunity to slay several more. Aranwë leapt onto another branch, and then another. He continued this for sometime until a great deal of Orcs had entered the premises of Imladris, where they were shot by the hidden Elves, gathered in the trees near the Ford of Bruinen. 

After the Orcs had been destroyed, Aranwë called out the hidden archers. The group of six or so Elves approached Aranwë. "Master Aranwë! This indeed is a joyful meeting!" said one of the Elves, striding forth. He had long black hair that came down a short length past his shoulders. 

"It is good to see you, also, Master Elpalan. I am sorry I had to lead the Orcs here, but my company was surrounded. I had hoped to lead them away from my friends, which worked, though I guess I must have misjudged which direction to go in. I meant to lead them to the sloped of the Misty Mountains, where Master Elcalen was waiting." Aranwë said, bowing to the Elf.

"Do not trouble yourself over this. This has happened before and had much greater consequences. No one was hurt and that is what matters. Speaking of that, I suggest you meet up with the rest of your group. We have already sent word to Elcalen and Celebithil to return to Rivendell."

"Very well. I shall do that. I have a few things I wish to report to Master Elrond when I return with my group. The Orcs originally had no intention to fight, which is very unlike their kind. It was as if some other force drove them. Eventually they stopped to fight after we slew a few of their group with our arrows."

"Indeed, that is strange. I will allow you to bear these tidings to Master Elrond, as I must return to my post."

"Farewell, Master Elpalan!" Aranwë said, turning away from the other Elves and running back into the small forest that lay south of Rivendell. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"You say they did not at first fight?" Elrond asked Aranwë. He seemed worried and yet curious at the same time. Aranwë nodded.

"It wasn't until we reduced their numbers lightly that they turned to fight us. Then we were surrounded and the rest of the tale you have already heard in full." Aranwë said. 

"Elcalen and Celebithil brought similar tidings of fleeing Orcs. What direction did they seem to be intent on traveling in."

"They were traveling north. I do not know why. We were barely a few miles south of Rivendell. Surely they fear the hidden archers of Elven-lands?"

"This makes me even more curious. The only thing I can think of that has anything to do with the flight of the Orcs northward, is that of old the Orc capitol was Mt. Gundabad, in the North, which borders the Northern Wastelands."

"I thought the Dwarves drove them out of Mt. Gundabad?"

"Indeed they did. But the Dwarves did not dare to settle there, so close to the Wastelands, the Spirit of Sauron haunts, which is said."

"Spirit of… Sauron? Wasn't he destroyed when the Ring was cast into Amon Amarth?" 

"His power was broken, but his black spirit can never be wholly destroyed. If you need more beyond that, you should ask Gandalf, for he knows much about Sauron that I can only guess."

"If his power was broken, then he cannot take physical form."

"Yes. I doubt he'll ever be able to take a form again, unless Morgoth himself grant it to him."

"Could the Orcs be answering some sort of call from him."

"I am not sure."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

King Elessar sat down at the large table that was set in the dining room of the White Tower. At his right was Arwen Undomiel, his wife, who was given the choice of remaining with her people and her father, Elrond, or forsaking that and become a mortal to be with the man she loved, Aragorn. 

At Elessar's left was his son Eldarion, who was his heir. Next to Eldarion was his wife, Éowan, who was a relative of Éomer of Rohan. Next to Arwen was Eldarion's son, Falathar. Falathar had finally, in the reckoning of Men, come of age, and he grew nigh to the age of fifty-five. Elessar himself was drawing close to the end of his long and laborious days. 

Falathar's grey eyes dashed this way and that, eyeing the rest of the table. The thought of kingship had been growing in his mind, but Elessar had named Eldarion his heir. Despite Falathar's deep love for his father, he soon began to lust for the kingship. It was at this dinner, that his fate was sealed.

Falathar's hand slowly moved to his sword. None noticed his smooth movement. He quietly drew it out, however, Elessar, though old, still had unparalleled hearing among Men. He heard the sword but knew not who drew it. He leapt to his feat, drawing the ancient blade Andúril, he eyed the table. Arwen looked up at him, worry in her eyes. She too stood up and Eldarion drew his own sword. Elessar's eyes darted back and forth up and down the long table. 

"Who dares unsheathe their sword in secret amongst their friends and allies?" Elessar asked. Slowly Falathar stood up, his sword glittered in the light coming from of the windows facing west. 

"It is I, grandfather." Falathar said, in a cold and icy voice. Turning to his mother, Falathar put his blade to her neck. "I am a servant of the Power of Dúrfán."

"Dúrfán?" Eldarion blinked, staring at his son with curiosity and bitter fury. He looked to his father, who seemed to be thinking of something. Finally Elessar stared hard at his grandson."

"Dúrfán you say? A strange name indeed, for in Sindarin it means 'Black Cloud'"

"Yes, my Lord is coming. He is coming for the throne of Gondor, which he shall take by force." Falathar said, a mad gleam coming into his eye. Taking his sword reluctantly away from his mother's neck he turned and slew a servant of the King's. Faramir had silently come up behind Falathar and drew his sword also. 

"I have heard him speak in his dreams, my Lord. He wishes for the downfall of Gondor and of Arnor." Faramir said, trying fruitlessly to quell the anger in his voice. Falathar turned to face the Steward of the City and there was great malice in his eyes. 

"Fools! All who resist Dúrfán will fall at one time or another. You have only yourselves to thank when the time for your painful deaths arrives!" with that he dodged a sword stroke from Faramir and leapt up to one of the large windows that faced west. He leapt from the window to the ground, for it was not far. He ran from the city, slaying anyone that stood in his path until he reached the Gate. It was wrought of mithril by the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain and stood strong. He pushed the gates open, and it was not an easy task. Slaying the gate guards, he began to run from the city. He did not stop until he was several miles away. 

-End Chapter 1


	2. Shadowy Appearence

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AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 2 – SHADOWY APPEARENCE

Aranwë entered the Hall of Fire. Sitting in a chair at the far end was Elrond. Gathered around him were several dark-haired Elves. They sat chanting the Lay of Lethian, as they always did on the anniversary of Aragorn and Arwen's wedding. Aranwë sat listening to the tale, though he had heard before. When it was over the dark-haired Elves stood up and each bowed to Elrond before leaving. "It is such a sad tale…" Elrond said thoughtfully as Aranwë approached him.

"Do not regret your allowance of King Elessar's wedding, Lord Elrond." Aranwë said, perceiving Elrond's thought. 

"I do not regret it. But as it is done, I cannot change it. I once told Aragorn that Arwen deserved a man no lesser than the King of Gondor and Arnor, and that he is. I do not begrudge him either. But that can not be the reason you wished to speak with me, Master Aranwë." 

"No indeed, Lord Elrond. I bring messages from the Ford. Elpalan caught one of the Dunlendings roaming in the area."

"Did you set him free?"

"No."

"I see. What did this Man have to say? It is not often the wild folk cross the Misty Mountains. I see why you did not let him go before seeing me."

"His name, he says is Murmak. It seems to me to be a name from the Black Speech of the Orcs. The Dunlendings have their own language."

"Odd indeed. Murmak is indeed a name derived from the Speech of the Orcs. Take me to him."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Gimli, son of Gloin kept his hand close to his axe haft as he climbed the slopes of the Misty Mountains. He had known that the Orcs had been driven out by the Elves, as he had heard of it from Legolas, but he did not entirely trust these Mountains. His people knew well the many passages of the Lonely Mountain, and knew well enough of old the many paths of Khazad-dûm, but the Misty Mountains were well known as one of the chief dwelling places of the Orcs. 

Gimli had wanted to go through the Gap of Rohan and then strike north to get to Rivendell. However he was suddenly attacked by a group of Orcs and forced into the Misty Mountains. He did not like the Misty Mountains, still treating them as if they housed numerous tribes of Orcs, even after the sortie of the Elves. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Slowly, an old man may his way over the mountains. He had seen a Dwarf go that way and wished to see what such a creature might be doing in these parts. Following the bent man was an Elf, clad in white. A broad sword wrought of white mithril glittered at his side. If the Dwarf had noticed the Elf and the Man following him, he would have turned greeted them instantly.

"Olórin, the day draws on. We do not have time to search for this Dwarf that you say you know. Our victory over the Orcs at the foot of the mountains was probably watched." The old man turned to face the Elf. He had bushy grey eye brows and a long grey beard. 

"Galadfân, you must be patient with me. I am old and weary, but my eyes do not yet deceive me." The Elf sighs. "You are impatient, Galadfân. It is not like one of the Elves to be so impatient."

"You and I both know I am in Elf form under the request of Lord Manwë. I am glad that I could come in such a form, but I must admit, I can be impatient."

"But enough of this! I have almost lost sight of our friend! We must catch up to him!" the old man sprang away over the rocks, followed by the fair Elf, called Galadfân. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Elrond stepped onto the lush grass that was now littered with the falling brown leaves, so common in Rivendell. As he looked to the gate he saw a group of Elves gathered around a figure hunched in the center of the ring of Elves. As Elrond approached, the man looked up and met his gaze, though Elrond could not see it, since the man was completely concealed under a grey cloak. As Elrond drew closer a smile grew on the man's face. Elpalan stepped forward. "Lord Elrond. We caught him wandering around the fences of our land. We were unable to remove his cloak, for every time we tried, he leaped away. He has told us he is from Dunland and his name is Murmak, but we couldn't get anything else from him. A smile also crept onto the Elrond's face.

"You are poorly disguised Andú. Though elven eyes cannot pierce cloth, I could tell who this grey-clad Southerner was. No man from Dunland could avoid six Elven-archers, unless he be of the kin of Aragorn Elf-stone." Elrond said. The man removed his hood and he had not the face of a wild man out of Dunland, but that of a Ranger of the North. His hair, drooping with sweat, hid his lean face, and his head was bowed. 

"Lord Elrond. I beg your pardon, I did not wish to disturb you. I wished to inform you of matters concerning many things, but I was forbidden to reveal my purpose to any aside from you, unless it be to Lord Mithrandir or Lady Galadriel or Lord Cirdan. I passed north from my camp in Eregion and under the leaves of the small, yet dangerous forest south of here; I arrived at the gate. Your guards would not let me pass, for I was not reveal my identity, either, and I took the disguise of a Dunlander, since many of that wild folk dwell in Eregion, close to the slopes of the Misty Mountains, and I had no hope to pass through there unhindered otherwise."

"You will rest for a short time and then tell me of your errand. Aranwë, guide Master Andú to his room." Elrond said, before bowing to the Elves assembled there and turning back. Aranwë looked the man called Andú up and down. He had a sword at his belt, inside of its sheath, and a quiver and arrow across his back. He wore a grey cloak, like the Rangers did before the return of the King to Gondor. 

"My name is Aranwë. I see you are of Dol Amroth, you have an elvish air about you, like the people of that land do."

"It is said that elven blood runs through the veins of my people."

"Come, I will show you to your room, then." Aranwë said, turning.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Falathar looked up grimly from his drink. It had been many years since he had been in Bree. Across from his sat a robed figure, whose face was hidden.

"And so King Elessar wanes. Indeed, our plan shall be made much easier after he is dead. Your father Eldarion is a great man but nothing to what King Elessar was." The figure said, its voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it filled Falathar with fear.

"Indeed, Master. But there is one thing I am worried about."

"Yes?"

"The Halflings, Master. For because of the Halflings, Sauron the Great was disembodied and broken."

"I have learned much from my old Master. For we were both servants of the Dark Lord ere the hosts of Valinor broke Angband and threw him into the void. We both pleaded innocence and then became emissaries to Númenor. We persuaded Ar-Pharazon to attack Valinor with a fleet. The rest of my story is for another occasion. Indeed, one thing I learned from Sauron is to not underestimate the Halflings of the West."

"What then shall we do."

"Nothing. Leave them be for now."


	3. The Elven Maiden

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AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 3 – THE ELVEN-MAIDEN

Aranwë stood before Elrond, with his two friends, Celebithil and Elcalen. Andú stood off to the side, watching Elrond intently. It was hard for Aranwë to read what Andú was feeling, because his face seemed confused, focused, and attentive all at once. At last when Elrond spoke, Aranwë turned away from Andú. 

"I send each of you as messengers to lands that need know of the betrayal of Falathar and the flight of the Orcs, both tales which you have heard in full. Celebithil, I send you to take the messages to the kingdom of Arnor and then to the Master Took, Thain of the Shire. Elcalen, I send you to the Grey Havens, and then to the Lonely Mountain. Andú, I send you back to Gondor. From there, I wish for you to take messages also to Rohan, to King Éomer. Aranwë, I send you to Lórien, and then to Eryn Lasgalen. Also, inform Lady Galadriel that, if she will, she should ride to Imladris, for many things I need to tell to her. Also, Celebithil, if you will, inform Cirdan I wish to speak with him here in Imladris. Go, while the clouds are still just gathering!" Each of the Elves bowed to Elrond and turned to leave. Andú bowed and said. 

"Great is the power of the Firstborn, but who can say what times are ahead. I hope our next meeting shall be on a more joyful occasion, Master Elrond." With that, Andú turned and he too left the room.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Each of the four messenger's paths were one, at least for the first few days. Each of them took no more provisions than what they would need, and all Aranwë had was his bow and quiver, though he was also skilled in sword combat, he preferred to keep out of sight as well. Besides, if someone had to engage in Orc at a close range, Andú had a sword of his own (and a bow also). For it was with Andú, that most of his time would be spent, for both of them were headed East over the Misty Mountains, while the other two Elves were headed West.

On the eve of their start, Aranwë sat out on one of the many porches of Rivendell. He sat long in thought, about the fair things that he would see… Lórien… the cleansed leaves of Eryn Lasgalen… and the Gladden Fields which had increased in beauty since the Orcs were driven out of that area. Then his mind shifted to the Misty Mountains. To him there was still a dreadful feeling about that place, even if he himself had made sure that every single Orc was driven out of there. Moria still housed nameless fears, though not necessarily a Balrog. Older and far fouler things. He shivered and looked toward the moon and the stars. As if he had just noticed it, far below the porch a beautiful Elven voice sang:

__

O Elbereth! Gilthoniel!

We still remember, we who dwell

In this far land beneath the trees

Thy starlight on the Western Seas.

Aranwë stood up and saw standing alone, an Elven woman, clad in grey. He could not see her face, but by the way she was dressed, he could tell she was from Lórien. He listened to the song of Varda, Star-kindler, intently, as if he had never heard it before (though he had heard it and even sung it himself many times)as he slowly sat back down. The Elf's voice slowly faded and she stopped singing. Aranwë looked down from his position on the porch and he could not see the Elf any longer. 

Author's Note: Sorry for the length of this chapter, but this one needed to be short. This is the first time, but definitely not the last the Elvish has been used in my fanfic. Once I'm done with the story, I will write an appendix or two to go with it, and that will have translations of any Elvish that is spoken.

I get my Elvish translations from a book called The Languages of Tolkien's Middle-Earth by Ruth Noel and from an online website (that I unfortunately no longer have the URL for) that has a Sindarin dictionary, which I printed out. Also, I do not know how long Chapter 4 will take me. Chapter 2 seemed to take no time at all, but that is because I already had it started before I posted Chapter 1 on ff.net. 


	4. Departure South

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AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 4 – DEPARTURE SOUTH

Aranwë mounted his white horse, Elbre, and rode up next to Andú, who was also on his horse. "The sun wanes. We should leave soon." Aranwë said, staring at the setting sun. Elcalen steered his horse over. 

"Aranwë, we will be leaving soon. Are you prepared?"

"Yes, Elcalen. I should say the same to you, as you seem to be more forgetful than I am." Aranwë said, jokingly. At that moment, Celebithil rode up. He seemed to have the lightest load, carrying only a small pack and his bow and quiver. Andú had offered to take up most of the luggage, at least until they had passed through Eregion. 

And so, on April 4th, the four riders set out. Aranwë, who was very familiar with the area of the Misty Mountains, would be there guide until they had reached the Gap of Rohan. From there, Elcalen and Celebithil would depart, and Andú would be the new guide. Several days passed like that, until one night. 

They set up their camp at night. They had put several hundred miles behind them, and they were well into the center of Eregion. Aranwë stood watch, as it was his turn. He did not like the smell in the air, it reminded him too much of the same smell that lingered in the Misty Mountains. Suddenly, far off though it was, he thought he saw a sign of movement. Suddenly and arrow shot passed his head and stuck into the tree directly behind him. He roused the other three from their sleep and they all drew their weapons. Suddenly orc-battle cries could be heard far off and yet coming closer and closer. Aranwë saw the mad glint in the eye of an Orc, and let go of his arrow. A high shriek roused the warm night air. The three elves watched intently. Quite suddenly several Orcs leapt up onto the rocks, their hideous faces full of malice and hate. Elcalen drew his small knife and Andú drew his sword. The two rushed into the crowd of Orcs, while Aranwë and Celebithil kept a steady stream of arrows flying into the crowd, each one hitting their mark.

Andú dodged a swing from an Orc and drove his sword into the creature's chest. Black Orc blood covered his blade. Elcalen spun and avoided a sword stroke, only to be forced to dodge again. He drove his dagger into the neck of an Orc, and pulled it out, the blade now black.

The battle continued like this for several minutes until Elcalen's knife was knocked from his hand. He leapt up onto the rock that Aranwë and Celebithil were on and he too began to fire arrows at the Orcs. Andú was knocked to the floor by one of the larger Orcs and his sword was knocked from his hand. The ugly face of his assailant looked triumphant. A shrill cry and the briefly proud Orc fell with an arrow in its back. Andú rolled on the ground and picked up his sword. He stood up and beheaded an Orc that was about to attempt the same to him.

Finally the remaining Orcs fled or were killed while trying to flee. Celebithil rummaged around in the Orc bodies, trying to find any arrows he could possibly use. Aranwë still had quite a few, though he did pick up a few used ones. Andú turned to him. "We must go as swiftly as possible."

"The Gap of Rohan is probably being watched. Apparently the Orcs are no longer headed Northward, since when they fled, they were going back to the South, whence they came, I believe."

"We must find a different route." Celebithil said, walking over with half a quiver full of arrows. 

"Regardless, we must at least come within range of the Gap, for we do not know what has befallen there. At least that is where I shall go, for I do not wish to cross the Misty Mountains. Even if no evil dwells in its halls, it is still perilous."

"Indeed, I agree with Master Aranwë. I will not cross them, and therefore we shall continue south. Let us be off, before the Orcs come back."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Gimli turned suddenly to the call of his name. He turned to find a very familiar old man hobbling towards him and an upright Elf with long and straight white hair. "Gandalf!" Gimli cried, running over to the two of them. The old man, Gandalf, straightened up and looked at his old friend. 

"Gimli son of Gloin, indeed it is good to see you! This is my partner, Galadfân." Gandalf said, turning to the Elf. "He also is of the Istari, sent by my master in the West in Elven form."

"It is good to have finally met with the dwarf my friend here speaks so highly of." Galadfân said. 

"Where are you going, old friend?" Gandalf asked.

"Over the Misty Mountains, to Rivendell." Gimli answered.

"We go thither also. Would you like to journey with us?"

"Yes, I would."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The black figure leapt up the stones at a very fast pace, hoping to catch up to the two travelers he had seen. He stopped suddenly and a noise came from under his hood as if he was sniffing something. "A dwarf… and… no… not… him…" the figure hissed, though the last few words came from his mouth in a troubled whisper. He continued to leap from rock to rook, this time at a faster pace.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"We're almost to the Gap!" Andú shouted back at the three Elves. Arrows occasionally whined passed their heads and Aranwë had a cut across the side of his face from an arrow that just barely missed him. Behind them and ever closing in were Orc archers mounted on evil Wargs. Quite suddenly a blockade of Orcs wielding their cruel bent scimitars and their black longbows could be seen. The situation looked hopeless, Aranwë thought. The four horses stopped, though their riders urged them on.

"_Noro lim! Noro lim!_" Orc arrows were thick in the air and Elcalen received an arrow to the arm, which he currently took no notice to, trying to calm his horse. Aranwë managed to calm his and drew forth his bow and an arrow. His horse neighed as several Orcs ran forth. "This situation looks grim… we must retreat a few miles north. Perhaps we can lose them."

"Then we must cross the Mountains?" Andú asked. 

"Eventually, yes. Elcalen and Celebithil, now would be the ideal time for you to head West, unless you want to risk yourselves." Aranwë said, turning to the two other Elves. 

"Indeed, we shall. May Elbereth guide you, Aranwë." Celebithil said, her piercing cold eyes glanced at him. The two rode off at a great pace so that within moments they were out of sight, blocked by a small hill. Andú turned back to Aranwë.

"Let us hurry, the Orcs must not see us begin our climb, for I fear they would follow us if they did. And I see wolf-riders approaching." The two took off at a great speed northward. 

-End Chapter 4 


	5. Forced Refuge

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AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 5 – FORCED REFUGE

Aranwë and Andú climbed up the steep foot of one of the many mountains that made up the range of the Misty Mountains. Morning was slowly turning to afternoon, and the rolling green plains beneath them showed no sign of bloodshed and looked peaceful, in spite of the battle that had occurred. After their flight back northward, Andú and Aranwë were waylaid by Orcs coming down from the mountains, and were forced to fight their way up its somewhat shallow feet. To make matters worse, several Orcs borne upon Wargs were seen riding south again, probably ready to report the direction that two of their assailants had taken. 

"I think, however, that the Orcs are satisfied." Andú said, wiping his sweat-drenched brow. "They do not perceive that we had intended to go East and have two of us go West. I think they thought they had split up a group of travelers trying to all reach Gondor."

"I hope that you are correct." Aranwë said, having a much easier time at scaling the sheer wall of the mountain. He was swift and sure-footed and had trodden this path years earlier. 

They did not notice a black shadow slowly making its way toward them, creeping up on them.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Gandalf, Galadfân, and Gimli stood before the entrance to Rivendell. Gandalf seemed to be in deep discussion with one of the Elves. 

Gimli turned to Galadfân. "You are of Gandalf's order, correct?"

"Yes." Said Galadfân, as he turned his piercing eyes on Gimli. Gimli felt is if Galadfân was looking through him, but instead he was looking inside of him. "You are of Durin's line, are you not, Gimli son of Gloin?"

"Yes, Master…Elf." Gimli said, not quite sure _what_ to call the white robed figure that stood before him. 

"To the learned of the Exiles, such as Lord Elrond, I am called an Istari, a Maia, but as I am in Elf form, you may call me an Elf."

"You have seen the Blessed Realm. Tell me of its beauty, for as a Dwarf I am forbidden to look upon the great dwelling place of the Elder King."

"I would not tell you of the beauty that lays in that land, for then your heart would desire it more than you could possibly guess. Before long passion for this land would drive you mad." Gimli was amazed at the stern Elf's wise words. "Though Aman's beauty shall not be as it once was until all of the Elves are once again within its boundaries, and after the Dagor Dagorath, whence the Two Trees shall be rekindled." 

"Dagor Dagorath?"

"In the grey-elven tongue, Dagor Dagorath is the name of the Last Battle, when Melkor shall come forth from the void… I shall speak no more of that day… a great ability of foresight I have, and I can see the beginning and the end of the Last Battle, but the middle is unclear, and I fear there shall be great loss, before victory is attained, for the Spirit of Túrin shall fight alongside the Son of Manwë, and they shall slay Melkor in the end, and by Túrin's Black Sword shall be the House of Hador avenged." To this Gimli was amazed. The silence was broken when Gandalf came over.

"Excellent news Master Dwarf! It appears that Master Legolas has passed this way and is staying in Rivendell." The darkness from the tale of Galadfân that had descended upon Gimli's heart was now lifted. The Dwarf went to seek his friend.

"Olórin. I fear that Dúrfán new of our crossing the Mountains. A shadow has been hovering over my heart since we first set foot upon its slopes. Now that we are in Imladris, the Shadow has lifted, but he may still be pursuing us."

"I should hope that we did not lead him here, then. This evil cannot be contained by the power that lies here, and you I deem, are not yet prepared."

"Indeed. Olórin, you would be our only hope."

"I am not sure that I might defeat him. Though Sauron be defeated, I am sure that Lord Manwë should not wish for us to reveal any great strength."

"Indeed. It is not until my mind and my heart are clear shall I be prepared to confront Dúrfán, and both of which are clouded as of now." 

"For now, you shall not be wearied, for we must meet with Lord Elrond."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Aranwë and Andú had found a small cave in the side of one of the mountains. The rain was coming down swift and terrifyingly wrathful. They were forced to take refuge before they were thrown by the winds off of the mountain. "I sense some sort of dark presence. The Eldar are gifted with foresight, and I can see some sort of battle far off, yet so close. I fear that evil deeds are being done in the North, though we know of it not for sure." Andú pulled his blanket tighter around himself, but the torrent of rain outside made it almost impossible to fall asleep. He looked over at Aranwë, who was standing near the mouth of the cave looking out, as if trying to see something with his keen eyesight. _He is more like one of the tall Numenoreans rather than a child of the Elder Kindred._ Andú thought, staring at the stiff figure of the Elf. Aranwë whispered to himself: "_An hit im nan lam le elleth." _Before walking away from the mouth of the cave. 


	6. In Defense of Lórien

****

AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 6 –IN DEFENSE OF LÓRIEN 

Aranwë stood on a tall peak of a small hill at the foot of the Mountains. Andú stood watching the ground attentively, as if he expected Orcs to just rise up from it. It had been a three-day journey over the mountains and both of the travelers were quite sore… not that that would stop them. 

After concluding that there were no Orcs within his eyesight they shouldered their packs and Aranwë came down the other side of the hill. Andú went around and turned to face the Elf. "Anything?"

"No. Well Lórien is the closest of the places that our message need be brought to."

"The Golden Wood…? There are strange tales that encircle that land… I shall not pass its borders." Andú said, turning away to look in the direction of the Elven realm. 

"There is no evil in those woods, Andú. Indeed, my word is contrary to what was said in your realm ere the crowning of King Elessar, and what you have grown up hearing, but the Lady Galadriel is no evil sorceress."

"Though I have no such skill of foresight, I do not dare to go there." Aranwë pondered these words, though not knowing why he should fear the land of his mother's kin. Indeed a darkness had descended onto his heart. 

"Your words are strange but they may mean something… I think Lórien is in danger… I must go all the more swiftly…"

"I shall in such a case head for Rohan then."

"I beg you come to the Golden Wood with me. I shall prove indeed that the Lord Denethor taught wrongly about the Elves of fair Lothlórien.

"…Though my heart is against it I shall follow you to Lórien… if only to help your kin, Aranwë."

"Very well then, but we must make haste. The art of the archers of Lórien has been to fight with great stealth, but they cannot remain hidden for very long."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"The Orcs have renewed strength approaching along the course of the Anduin. They will be here soon." An Elf reported. Celeblhing nodded and the Elf left to return to his post. The Orcs had kept up their assault for four days. With troops constantly approaching from the north, Celeblhing began to wonder if perhaps Rivendell had been captured. Well regardless, it was her duty to lead the Elves in battle, so she sprang away for the north marches.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Aranwë silently removed an arrow from his quiver and fitted it to his bow. It appeared that they had reached Lórien just in time. He shot his arrow and it hit an Orc in the back of the neck. Aranwë wondered where all of the Elves had gone. A few hundred yards ahead he could see Andú fighting a group of Orcs. 

Aranwë payed for being temporarily distracted by receiving an arrow to the upper chest. He knelt down on one knee, pain searing through his upper body. Andú saw this and began a sprint for him, but it was too late, the Orc captain stretched his bowstring to his ear, but then fell dead, his arrow flying wildly. Aranwë looked up and saw a beautiful, strangely familiar, Elf clad in a grey Lórien cloak lowering her bow. She seemed strangely familiar to him, but his thoughts suddenly became black as two more arrows to each arm pierced him. The last thing he saw before an emptiness fell upon his thought was the grim face an Orc staring him straight in the eye, scimitar ready to smite him.

-End Chapter 6


	7. Lórien Ruined

****

AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 7 – LÓRIEN RUINED

Aranwë awoke to the soft words of a feminine voice. "Aranwë? Come back to the light Aranwë." He opened his eyes to see the same female Elf that had saved him. He glanced around. Trees were burning and the fair _mallorn_ leaves were trampled on. 

"Andú…?"

"He is safe." She said, still staring at him. 

"Who… who… are you?"

"My name is Celeblhing. I am an Elf from Lothlórien. Please be still." She added, as Aranwë tried to sit up. He noticed for the first time that she was tending his shoulder. 

"…Thank you…"

"Think nothing of it. Where are you from?" Aranwë noticed her deliberate attempt to keep his mind off of his wounds.

"My father is from Rivendell, my mother from Lórien. I currently reside in the Grey Havens."

"Things go ill at your home, then."

"What?"

"The Orcs are attacking all of the Elven settlements. Last tidings we heard from Cirdan were that he had driven the Orcs back to Lake Evendim with the help of the Halflings. However scouts had reported a great strength of Orcs passing through the north of Eriador. I fear that he cannot hold them for long."

"I see… these are grievous tidings indeed… and there is nothing I may do for my home… for I am bound to an errand, and though I regret it, I do not rue the one who laid it on me."

"May I ask what that errand is?"

"To bear tidings to Gondor, Rohan, Lórien, and Eryn Lasgalen about the mustering of Orcs in the north."

"You need not bear those tidings to any save perhaps the King of Gondor, for it known among all the Elves now and also in the Mark."

"Then swiftly shall I ride for Gondor."

"You must not ride with such wounds. The Orc venom still lurks in you, for this is beyond my skill to fully mend. I shall take you to the Havens of Edhellond whence the people of the Galadhrim fled since Lórien was overrun three days ago. Alas, I fear your aid came to late, brave warrior of the North."

"How far?"

"Only a few leagues south of us. We are currently not far from the southern border of Lórien."

"How did you find me?"

"I found your friend Andú and he bade me search for you, for Haldir would not allow one so injured as he to leave our care until he was healed."

"Is he at Edhellond?"

"Yes."

"How were the Orcs able to overcome the people of Lórien?"

"We do not know, for a swift and terrible power came suddenly and Lady Galadriel trembled and forbade us to fire any arrow at whatever it was. It cast a shadow over all that looked upon it and I was terrified, though still unwilling to let it hurt the fair _mallorn_. I fired a single arrow, but it erupted into flame ere it touched the thing." Aranwë took all of this into his mind, though he soon stopped considering what this might be, as his head began to pound. Celeblhing stood up and shouldered her bow and quiver. "Your wounds are healed well enough to travel, Master Elf. Even so I ask not to bend your bow, lest need be. We hopefully will not be engaged during our flight." Aranwë nodded and shakily got to his feet. He noticed his bow lying a few feet away. He slowly walked over and picked it up. 

"I am afraid I am out of arrows." Aranwë said, after looking around vainly trying to find his quiver.

"Though I do not wish for you to be so close to any enemy we may encounter, can you use a sword?"

"Yes."

"Here. I would take it but am not really much of a swordsman. I have a knife and my bow, such is the fashion of most of the Elves of Lórien." Celeblhing handed him a long, double-sided Elven blade. He turned it over in his hand admiring the interlacing silver and blue Elven characters drawn on the blades near the hilt. "Its name is Anormegil, for a great light shows forth from it when in battle… it was my father's…"

"I thank you, but have earned no such honor to bear such a blade. Please, I would use your knife if you wished for me to not use this weapon."

"It is all right. Use it as if it were always your own."

"I repeat my thanks. If I may say, you look very familiar… though I cannot place you… I am still weary… though well enough to travel." He added, seeing the look on her face that seemed to beg him to rest more. 

"I am afraid that I do not recognize you, however."

"Indeed… well shall we go?"

"Yes. I am hoping to reach Edhellond in two days."

-End Chapter 7


	8. The Herald of Dúrfán

****

AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 8 – THE HERALD OF DÚRFÁN 

Aranwë stood atop one of the higher-set rocks. He had just passed through the plains south of Lórien and was about to enter a rather hilly area that led west. He held Anormegil tight in his hand, for it had been a day since Orcs that came from out of the West had captured Celeblhing. They seemed to come from Isengard. Making his decisions he took off again, running swiftly among the hills, ready to strike down any Orc that got in his way.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"A mustering in the North?" Gandalf said, turning to Elrond. "In the Forodwaith? That is indeed strange. Then Dúrfán must have gone that way."

"Nay. Report has come from over the mountains. Lórien was besieged and they say there was a black spirit that none could withstand. I believe that was Dúrfán. I sent two messengers that way, Andú of Dol Amroth and Aranwë." 

"Both are known to me. Well you probably could not have found two better errand runners, for Aranwë knows more of the Misty Mountains than even I and I am sure that Andú knows the land east of them. However, now I fear that they may have been slain if they were in the area of Lórien."

"This is indeed heavy on my heart. Alas, such evil times."

"We must make ready for war."

"War, Gandalf?"

"Yes. Dúrfán will not wait to strike."

"You are right. I shall send tidings to all of the Free Peoples. We march in four months. Now even more I wish I had Aranwë at my side."

"Do not despair yet."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Andú sat on a rock that was set in the grass next to the River, polishing his sword. Anduin's currents were not very swift were Haven was; though easily swift enough to swallow anyone that tried to swim through it. He was growing impatient. The day wore on and still no sign of Aranwë or the Elf that was sent to find him. Around him the people of Lórien were being loaded onto ships that would carry them up the Anduin, for they were to make it to Rivendell, for the Muster of the Free Peoples. 

Indeed the messages from Rivendell had reached the Galadhrim, and Andú was glad that their journey would be shortened, having only the need to go to Gondor. Andú thought it odd that the people of the Mark knew of the Orcs in the North and the people of Gondor did not. Perhaps there was trouble there. 

Andú stood up and returned his sword to its sheath. He grabbed a half-eaten piece of some sort of waybread, not lembas but something more commonly used, and stuffed it in his mouth. An Elf approached him, whom he recognized as Haldir, the one who had rescued him.

"You are uneasy. You should rest."

"The waybread will sustain me."

"Do not be stubborn. I assure you, I will awake you first when Aranwë and Celeblhing arrive." Haldir said, as he smiled. Andú turned away and looked at the River for a moment, before turning back to Haldir. 

"You are right. I will go rest, but be sure to stay true to your word." Andú said with a smile.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The pair of Orcs that had bound her threw Celeblhing to the ground. "You shall wait for Master…" Celeblhing was disgusted by their perversion of Westron, but could not comment on it as she was gagged. The two Orcs tied her bonds to a stake and took off for the towering structure called Orthanc. 

At one point, Orthanc had been a tower belonging to the Numenoreans. Recently Saruman the Traitor had occupied it. Finally, it had been given back to the King, but had been seized by some of Dúrfán's troops. 

The guards could not withstand the coming and were driven into the Wild and slain for sport. Then the tower doors were thrust open 

Celeblhing's bow was taken from her along with her knife and they were thrown on the ground, for the Orcs wished to handle the Elvish weapons as little as possible. 

Celeblhing struggled pointlessly against her bonds. Suddenly a spell of weariness fell over her and she looked toward Orthanc, only to see a black figure walking toward her. 

"Unbind the Elf. Keep your eyes on her, though. She, after-all, is my guest." The figure spoke. Then he strode lazily over to her, as she stood up, immense fury in her eyes. "An Elf left behind during the flight of the people of the Wood. Ha! Tell me your name." 

"My name is not for you to know, traitor of thy kin. I know your treachery Falathar, son of Eldarion, son of King Elessar." She spoke, unable to keep her bitter fury in check. And so the black figure lowered his hood and it was Falathar. 

"How could I wish to fool an Elf. How came you to be estranged from your kin?"

"I was sent to look for survivors. How came _you_ to be estranged from _your_ kin, black hearted fool?"

"I saw the wisdom in joining the side of power. Dúrfán's power is great. I am here speaking on his behalf, though he can hear all of what we say. For I am the Herald of Dúrfán."

"Fool. You deserve to be accounted amongst the Orcs, foul offspring of noble blood."

"Such words coming from such a fair Elf maiden."

"I would not hesitate to put arrows through your faithless skull, had I my bow."

"That you do not have. And like your bow, your life may also be tossed to the ground." Celeblhing was about to answer when an arrow struck one of the Orcs holding Celeblhing. She immediately sprang for her weapons. She fitted an arrow to her bow and just barely missed Falathar, who was using Orcs as shields as he passed through the crowd. As he got to he back ranks of the large assembly, he could see who had come to Elf's rescue. Another one of her kind, whom he also recognized, Aranwë. However, Falathar also had the power of his voice, and he stood tall amongst the hunched Orcs. He spoke in a loud and commanding voice. "Aranwë, son of Glorfindel, you have come to have your flesh carried away by the carrion birds as well!"

Aranwë's eyes met those of Falathar and though the stern Elf could not make Falathar do anything by staring at him, Falathar took a step back, as if trying to escape the Elf's sharp glance. 

Unfortunately for Falathar, he had only a small band of Orcs with him, as the rest were busy forging weapons in the caverns of Isengard, which had been dug anew. Realizing his danger, he gave the order for the Orcs to kill the Elves, disregarding whatever important information they may have had.

And so it was that Aranwë and Celeblhing met for the second time on the battlefield. She turned to him. "Why did you come here?"

"Well, I found some arrows left over from the battle and I owe you my life, and so I followed the Orcs. Besides, Edhellond's exact location is unknown to me, and I wish to find Andú." He said as the Orcs began a charge for them, blades raised. Aranwë shot an arrow into their ranks and one of the Orcs stopped dead in its tracks, causing several more Orcs to run into it and fall over. Celeblhing turned away from him and fitted her own arrow to her bow. 

-End Chapter 8


	9. All the King's Horses and All the King's...

****

AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 9 – ALL THE KING'S HORSES AND ALL THE KING'S MEN

Aranwë and Celeblhing had taken refuge in the outskirts of Fangorn Forest, near to the Gate and the Orcs searched frantically for them. Aranwë had run out of the few arrows that he had found and Celeblhing's quiver was half-empty. Aranwë drew forth Anormegil and held it aloft. It was glowing a dark red, for it was forged in Gondolin, and though neither Elf knew it, Aranwë's grandsire had made it for Celeblhing's father in the Hidden City. As such, it would glow when Orcs were near. Aranwë quickly returned it to its sheath, lest they be caught. 

"You should not have come." Celeblhing said, turning to him. 

"I am quick to repay my debts and never forget about them. I do not think I would have been able to repay someone for saving my life if they were dead." 

"You did not-" her sentence was never finished as they both heard the pounding of horse hooves. They stepped to the outermost part of the forest and espied from a distance the banner of King Éomer. 

"The Men of the Mark have come… the Rohirrim…"

"They have come to overthrow Falathar…"

A host of Orcs issued from the gates hoping to meet the Rohirrim on the plains in front of the Gate. Éomer quickly sent two large groups of men under Erkenbrand, one of the Marshals of the Mark, to meet them, while the rest of the men waited. Erkenbrand's two groups outnumbered the Orcs and had slain all of them in a short amount of time, with a small amount of injuries and no casualties. Éomer sent the main part of his host to the Gate, which now had Orc archers placed on top of it. The Orcs were once again overwhelmed, though they did kill a fair few of Éomer's soldiers. 

The Gate was thrown down and the troops poured forth into the Ring of Isengard. There they met a large army of Orcs, which drove them back with great slaughter to the walls. Aranwë and Celeblhing took place in this fight.

"There are at least 5,000 of them and not all of the troops have yet gotten inside of the Ring." Aranwë said as an arrow just barely missed his head. Celeblhing fired back and the two backed up a little as the Orcs, with yet more reinforcements swarmed around the statue of the White Hand. 

"And not just Orcs. Some of them are those wretched goblin-men. The Uruk-hai." Celeblhing added. Aranwë ducked, turned, and stabbed an Orc as it dove and missed him. Celeblhing had run off to aid the other archers, at Aranwë's prayer. A lone archer would be no good with hundreds upon hundreds of Orcs charging at them. 

An Uruk-hai jumped up and latched onto Aranwë, pulling him to the ground. He took his sword and smote the creature on the head. He wiped the Orc-spit off with disgust and readied himself for another inevitable charge. 

Éomer changed his strategy. Instead of an all out assault, he would draw the enemy into the plains. He gave the order for the troops to make it back tot he fields. However, for many soldiers, this was their undoing. Countless were slain trying to make it out of the Gate. Aranwë and Celeblhing were able to get outside and Éomer rode up to them. "Elven folk? What is your business hear?" he asked.

"My friend here was captured by Orcs and I came to help her out. We did not know prior to about an hour ago, that there would be any sort of attack on Isengard. We've just been helping your troops."

"I suggest you leave at once." He said as a stray arrow barely missed Aranwë. "Men have short lives, and Elves have an eternity. We must fight ere our strength fails us, but you may have yet another chance to fight again if you flee. I will not consider you cowardly, either, for I know of you and your deeds Aranwë son of Glorfindel, as you have been to the Mark more than once."

"But-" Aranwë began. Éomer shook his head. 

"Go! Hurry while we can still resist the Orcs. If you absolutely yearn to do something for us, bear tidings to Lord Aragorn of our battle here. There is a pass into Gondor that was just won back by Lord Faramir. You must go around the southwestern tip of the White Mountains and so come to the land of Belfalas. Go with haste." The Elves nodded after looking hard and long at Éomer. 

"Yes Lord of the Mark, we shall bear these tidings to Lord Aragorn."

-End Chapter 8


	10. The Haven of Edhellond

****

AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 10 – THE HAVEN OF EDHELLOND

Aranwë turned to his companion. "How far is it to Edhellond?" She stopped and stood still for a moment, looking around.

"About ten leagues. We are not far." She stated confidently. "However, if we are to go to the White City, you must guide us, for I know not the paths of the Southern Kingdom."

"That is well, for I was there not more than seven years ago and remember much of the land." He said, and they resumed their steady pace. "We must quickly reach Edhellond, but my horse I sent back to Rivendell ere I crossed the Mountains…"

"Let us quicken our pace ere daylight turns to twilight!" and they took off at a run.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Falathar looked out from the tower of Orthanc. The battle was going well for the forces of Isengard. The Rohirrim had been driven back from the Gate and were now in the open plains north of Isengard that ran into Dunland. 

"Master, we've beaten the horse-lords back." Falathar said, turning to face the empty room. In the center was a glowing orb with interlacing lines of red, gold, and purple surrounding it. The orb was a _palantir_, given to the Men in Númenor by the Eldar of the Blessed Realm. In all there were seven and Elendil brought them along with the White Tree to Middle-earth. Falathar placed his hand over the palantir, awaiting a response. A small whisper spoke in the back of his mind. 

"Abandon the battle… Gondor has sent knights to help the Men of the Mark…" It was the voice of Dúrfán. Falathar's concentration broke and he ran to the window only to see a mass of ten thousand or so knights bearing the banner of King Elessar drive into his army from the side.

"Flee from Angrenost… come to the North… the siege of Lothlórien is complete…" the whisper filled the room again. Falathar turned back to the _palantir_. 

"Yes, my lord."

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Galadfân moved with swift feet. His cloak billowed behind him as he went. Finally he reached Elrond's study. He knocked on the door and it was opened and he stepped inside. "Lord Elrond, my dreams have been troubled as of late. Ever and anon I think of the inevitable clash that lies ahead."

"You are not alone in that matter." A kind voice spoke from the corner. Galadfân turned to see Gandalf sitting at a table smoking his pipe. Elrond beckoned for him to sit down. 

"I do not think we should risk open war." Galadfân said.

"We must risk it. If we fail, Dúrfán will rule all of Middle-earth, for I do not think the Valar will be moved to pity twice, lest all of the Free Peoples of the World begged them upon their knees. However, if we wait for him to strike he will overcome us. His strength, like his old Master's, will always be stronger than it seems and his plots otherwise than what we perceive. He has long espied all of the lands south of his current stronghold in the North. He had help, I believe, from Saruman, for Dúrfán, I now esteem, had been living in Middle-earth ere the Third Age began. Secretly he departed from Númenor, where he was staying at the bidding of the Valar, and secretly he arrived on these shores." Gandalf said.

"But what hope do we have against such a power?" Galadfân asked, determined to alter the decision, for fear that it was not time yet.

"We do not have much hope. But ere I depart from this land I would like to have done something to stop this power from growing." Elrond spoke. 

"It is folly…" Galadfân said, looking down at the floor.

"Not folly my friend. We must not wait for him to strike first. He only needs one stroke to crush any hope of resistance." Gandalf said. "And you must be the one who confronts Dúrfán at last."

"Yes… I know… that is my mission here and I am fully intent on completing it lest I die in the process…"

"I am sorry that it must be so soon, but we must fight ere winter is upon us, and even now the days swiftly pass. In six months the snow shall come and therefore we march in four. We must reach the Forodwaith with the Host of the Free Peoples ere _Ivanneth _wanes to _Hithui_." 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Haldir espied from a distance two figures racing towards the borders of the Haven. He reached for his bow, but as the got closer he realized they were not bent Orcs, but two creatures running swiftly. He leapt down from his _flet _and brought no weapon with him.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Edhellond is now but minutes away." Celeblhing said as they drew closer to a small forest. Aranwë could see a grey figure silhouetted against the trees.

"There is someone waiting for us. " he saw off in the distance a lantern flicker on. The beam went from Aranwë's face to Celeblhing's and then they were greeted.

"_Mae gommen an Edhellond, Celeblhing a Aranwë._"

"Haldir, it is good to see you well." Celeblhing said. Haldir's gaze shifted to Aranwë. 

"Your friend awaits you, son of Glorfindel." Aranwë nodded, but a sudden searing pain entered his arm. He latched onto his arm with his other hand.

"My friend was shot by an Uruk-hai at Lórien and now it has been six days since that time. He needs healing beyond my skill ere the poison consumes him." Celeblhing explained. Haldir nodded and stepped aside to let them pass. 

"I am under oath to inform your friend Andú that you have arrived, my kinsman." Haldir said as Aranwë walked past, being supported by Celeblhing.

"Yes, I wish to see him as soon as may be." Aranwë said, turning his head back. Haldir nodded and followed them through an arch that was used as a gate for the Haven and was the only way in or out, unless one wanted to navigate through near-impassable forests for hours. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Andú sat in a chair inside of his small hut that the Elves erected for him. His wounds were now fully healed and he would always look northward, expecting Aranwë to come down the path. But even as he gazed that way for a fourth time within a one minute he saw a grey figure rushing towards his hut. Haldir stopped in front of his house. "Master Aranwë has arrived, sir, you may go and see him." 

"Thank you, I shall do just that." Andú answered the Elf. He got too his feet and wrapped his green cloak around himself before exiting his shelter. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Aranwë took note of the beauty of the area. The Haven was encircled on all sides by a thick forest save to the south and to the east. South across the River one could espy the city of Dol Amroth with its high white towers. To the East was the Realm of Gondor and the White Mountains and the Mouths of Anduin the Great. 

Celeblhing lead Aranwë to a house that was set at the end of the road, on the left side. This was the House of Galadriel and Celeborn. Aranwë gazed at it and saw it was built around the botanical life rather than over it. In a small garden off to the said that was nigh to the River Aranwë saw Galadriel sitting. Celeblhing lead him over and they both bowed. "My Lady…" Celeblhing said. Galadriel turned to them and Aranwë felt her glance pierce his heart. 

"I am glad to see you have returned, Celeblhing. And you bring with also one of my kinsman, for his mother was related to me." Aranwë looked down, unable to bear the Lady's gaze. "It has been well nigh four-hundred years since your mother passed, am I correct?"

"Yes, my Lady, you are right." Aranwë said, looking back up at her. 

"You have come seeking your friend. I have learned much of what goes on from him, for we had a discussion about the Muster."

"Muster?" Aranwë asked.

"Yes. Several days ago Elrond sent some bird messengers bearing tidings of a Muster of the Free Peoples at Imladris. We are marching to war in four months."

"War… heavy tidings indeed… well these are my tidings to bear to you. Master Elrond wishes for you to come to Imladris to meet with him and bring whatever force you may muster."

"Thank you very much Aranwë." She said. Celeblhing bowed and Aranwë tried his best to do the same. They turned to leave, but as Aranwë did so he came face to face with Andú.

"It is good to see you well, Aranwë." He said smiling.

"Likewise for myself Andú. Are you prepared to finish our quest?" 

"Yes I am dear friend." Andú said. Suddenly Galadriel turned back to them.

"I wish for you to go with them Celeblhing. I too have a message that I would like to have you deliver to the Queen."

"Very well my Lady." Celeblhing said. Andú spoke this time. 

"I thank you for your kindness and hospitality." He bowed deeply.

"Has your opinion on the Golden Wood changed?" Aranwë asked as they walked away from the garden.

"Somewhat. I now have know fear of evil within its boundaries… but it is extremely perilous still." 

"Perilous only if one brings evil with them." Celeblhing said, her sharp eyes fixing on Andú. 

"I suppose you are right. My name is Andú, by the way."

"I am Celeblhing." She answered. He now turned to Aranwë.

"Am I still to be our guide, Master Elf?"

"Indeed." Aranwë replied.

"Then we shall cross at the ford east of here and then cross the River Poros and go northeast to Minas Tirith."

"Minas Anor, please. The evil is now gone from Mordor and the name is no longer fitting.

"I only call it so out of habit my friend."

"As I thought. If I may, Andú, we will be off early tomorrow and will not stop until night fall." Celeblhing shrugged and turned aside from the path heading into the woods. 

"As I thought I arrived in time for my shift though it only be for an hour. I shall awake the two of you in the morning. Aranwë can stay in your hut, Andú."

-End Chapter 10

__

Author's Note: Double digits! Woo! During school I've been working on a small piece in my notebook called "Concerning the Past of Aranwë" and intend to make it into an appendix along with a bio for Andú, Celebithil, Elcalen, and Elpalan (eventually). _SS/Destiny Daae would you be so kind as to provide me with a history of Celeblhing (don't need stats or anything, just a bio) as she is your character. Also, I just realized I have no disclaimer! I don't own any characters Tolkien created nor any place in all of Arda (for now…) Aranwë, Andú, Celebithil, Falathar, Dúrfán, Elcalen, and Elpalan are mine. Celeblhing belongs to SS/Destiny Daae. _


	11. Assault on Rivendell

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AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 11 – ASSAULT ON RIVENDELL

Aranwë, Celeblhing, and Andú, after receiving the Lady's blessing, departed from Edhellond making their way east. They wanted to cross the River Anduin and then over the River Poros and then heading north to Minas Anor following the Harad Road, which was now peaceful. They each had bows, Celeblhing with her knife, Andú with his sword, and Aranwë with Anormegil. They each had grey cloaks from Lórien as a sign of blessing from the Lady and the Lord of the Golden Wood and Elf Haven. The Ford that they would cross to reach the other shore of the Anduin was many leagues away and they started later than they had intended. "It shall soon be the tenth hour, Aranwë. We started far too late. We must continue until we reach the Ford."

"Yes, you are right." Andú said. "I have heard an old tale of lore concerning the particular crossing that we are seeking. They say that there is an Elf-maiden who lives there and none pass it against her will. They say she is as old as the oldest of the Eldar in the Blessed Realm."

"It is no myth, my friend. Nendur, Water-lover, is the keeper of the Southernmost Ford of Anduin, by which way few ever come. She is known in Imladris and is said to be a distant kinsman of Elrond and as such one of my distant kin. I do not know whence she came or if she ever returned back over the Water." He said, turning to Andú. "But if Nendur still does abide by the shores of the Great River, then we must be wary, for none cross the Ford against her will and she is held to be an excellent archer. I assume she is of the Nandor who remained East of the Misty Mountains ere the Elves first entered the Blessed Realm. She took to a life in the wild, as she took much joy in water. Even after her own people left the Ethir Anduin, she remained. When the Ford was constructed in the early days of the Southern Kingdom she offered to guard the Ford, though she is mainly forgotten now by Men, save in old legend and tales that are told to children restless at bedtime."

"She has not been wholly forgotten. The Lord Denethor clearly thought she still existed, as does King Elessar. It is for that reason that there are no other guards placed by the Ford. They believe she still lives."

"She still lives." Celeblhing said. "She will live until she is slain or the river is no more, for it would break her heart to be torn from the water and thus, I think, shall her doom be unfolded. I think that when the world is changed the Anduin will be no more. Such is it said in Lothlórien." She fell silent. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Khazad! Khazad ai mênu!" Gimli cried and he leapt down, axe drawn, and beheaded an Orc. His cry echoed in the valley. "Khazad-dûm!" Three others backed away from him and fled. They were stopped before they were three yards away. Legolas leapt down next to his friend, bow in hand. 

"Excellent axe work, Master Dwarf!" Legolas said, fitting another arrow to his bow.

"Thank you Master Elf. You are the finest archer I have seen." Gimli answered. Their conversation stopped as more Orcs could be seen approaching them. 

"They are filing up the mountain… Orc archers… there are many of them. Be wary of the surrounding cliffs, Gimli. I will dispatch them as well as may be." Legolas said, turning away from the Dwarf and firing up at a target that Gimli could not see. Moments later arrows came flying down around them. "Hurry, Orc warriors are hastening up the road! I will handle the archers." At that moment Elpalan ran to Legolas' side and began to fire up at the cliffs as well. Gimli turned aside and with another battle cry in the secret tongue of the Dwarves and was off. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Gandalf sat atop Shadowfax looking out into the valley. "Rivendell has been under siege for only three hours and we are already being driven back." He said, turning to Elrond. "I will go down. Though I still implore you to remain." Elrond sighed.

"But I cannot remain here safe while my people are down below suffering."

"I will stop their suffering as well as I may, for I will go with you, Gandalf." Galadfân, who stood nearby, said. He drew out his mithril tipped sword. Gandalf nodded and Galadfân also mounted the horse of Rohan. It did not attempt to throw him off, for Gandalf calmed it. They both rode away. Elrond stood staring after them, wishing he too was with them.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"We cannot hold them!" an Elf cried as another mass of Orcs was seen surging through the forest. A hail of arrows stopped the first few Orcs through the trees, but an even larger group replaced them. A group of Uruk-hai could be seen approaching from the south, slaying any Elf brave enough to try and stay their onslaught. Gimli fingered his axe, waiting for the Orcs to come. They had decided to make a last stand close to the mountains, for that was where Elrond, against his will, was being protected and it would prove easiest for him to escape that way, if they were overwhelmed. 

Fortunately there was one thing the Orcs had not counted on. They did not expect Gandalf the White to be at Rivendell. So it was that the two Istari drove in on the rear of the Uruk-hai. Many fled before their very presence, flinging themselves into the River Bruinen. None could withstand their sudden assault and Galadfân's sword was now doused in Orc-blood. Shadowfax trampled many Uruk-hai attempting to flee and many more were slain by Gandalf's ancient blade, Glamdring. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Celeblhing stopped. "We draw nigh to the River and darkness has already engulfed what is beyond our vision. We should stop here, Andú." She said, looking about. Andú nodded.

"However, is it safe? As we are indeed drawing close to Anduin should we not be wary. For the Keeper, if she still does exist, resides in this area, does she not?"

"Yes. But you should not fear. Elves recognize even their long estranged kin and we may hope she will recognize Aranwë son of Glorfindel."

"We may hope, though hope oft deceives" Aranwë said as he too glanced off into the darkness.

-End Chapter 11


	12. The Keeper of the Ford

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AGARWAEN-BOR

CHAPTER 12 – THE KEEPER OF THE FORD

Aranwë moved swiftly and yet quietly. He had volunteered to scout the area ahead. He stopped and stood at the top of a cliff that was set overlooking the River Anduin. Further South the Ethir Anduin could be seen. Glancing around he saw the old Ford. It looked quite run-down and abandoned. He no longer needed to be quiet, for the rumble of the River was much louder than Aranwë could hope to shout and have someone hear him. He approached the Ford warily. 

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Celeblhing stood looking out in the direction Aranwë had gone. She could no longer see him, for he had been going very fast. Andú stood staring southward, watching the Ethir Anduin, and thinking about the many things that had recently become his concern. Celeblhing turned to him suddenly. "Aranwë is in trouble. I feared that this would happen. Keep up as best you can, Andú." She said. The two of them took off with Celeblhing in the lead by about ten feet.

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"You will die, spy of Evil!" the unfamiliar Elf cried as she grabbed Aranwë from behind. His bow fell to the floor, for it had previously been in his hand. 

"I am no spy for the Darkness!" Aranwë answered back, trying to reach for Anormegil. The Elf took notice of this and a second later a knife was placed dangerously close to his neck. 

"Try and slay me and you shall die ere your sword is drawn." The Elf hissed. Aranwë's hand slipped off the sword hilt. 

"I am of your kin, please let me speak!"

"Why? None of my kin linger now in these lands. And Elves are never seen wandering near here anymore. For Ithilien is across the river!"

"I am not from these lands, though I wish to see Lord Elessar. I am akin to Elrond Half-elven if that helps my cause." He said. The Elf grudgingly released him. Aranwë turned to face the Elf and found she was fair and dark-haired. She was clad in green and looked like those of the Silvan Elves, yet her dark hair implied Noldorin decent. "So you are of the Noldor…."

"What does my heritage have to do with you, Elf?" she asked, her cold eyes never leaving his face.

"I am but trying to ease your bitterness against me!" Aranwë shouted back. A half-second later the she-Elf had an arrow fitted to her bow and dangerously close to Aranwë's chest. Even an Elf would have troubled surviving a shot from that range. Aranwë raised his hands. "I am sorry." Aranwë said. _I must control my anger. She has long been sundered from her people…_ he thought as she lowered the bow slowly. 

"What then do you want, for this is my territory." She asked, her suspicious glance returning. 

"We wish to cross the Anduin at your bridge." He answered, making an attempt to sound as truthful as he ever had. 

"Hmmm… you say we, but only one of you do I see. Is this a trap?" she asked, her voice rising. 

"No. I went ahead to see what I would, but I thought that your ford was further northeast. There are two more with me, and I must seek them now, if you will allow us to cross."

"I suppose I shall allow you to cross, but you need not seek your friends, for they are coming now." She said, staring over his shoulder. He turned to see Celeblhing and Andú approaching. Nendur, the she-Elf, eyed them with the same untrusting glance that she gave Aranwë. "Two Elves and a man. Strange indeed, such a company. Are you going to Ithilien?"

"Not Ithilien. Minas Anor." Aranwë answered her.

"Things are not well in the realm of the South Kingdom. Be wary for Orcs now prowl its borders, and have even attempted attacks against me." At this Andú sighed heavily. His face looked sorrowful. 

"What happened there?" He asked. Nendur turned her icy eyes on him. 

"You are a Ranger out of the North?" she asked, ignoring his question. He nodded impatiently. "Your old chieftain is dying, or so I guess, for I receive little tidings, save what the Elves of fair Lothlórien bring to me. Elessar is dying."

-End Chapter 12


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